Dark Light of Day (51 page)

Once Ari had recovered enough to talk about what had happened, his whole take on it had been uncharacteristically naive and sweetly romantic. Perhaps that’s what a brush with death did to a person. He’d stated, on multiple occasions, that the whole situation could have been avoided had Nergal simply been a better husband. While I felt this sweeping summary was entirely too idealistic, and managed to gloss over a few hard to hear truths, it did endear him to me even further.

When we got to the woods, I saw that our blackened path was still there. Grass had crept back over its outer edges and a few green stalks had shot up the middle. Still, the last thing I yearned for was the presence of an Angel to cast a spell of protection over these new growths. The forest as a whole would survive our presence and I’d had enough of spells. Besides, if what I had in mind worked, this path would become worn with the trampling of ordinary Hyrke feet before long.

We took our time. I made sure we stopped to rest often, including the spot just before the forest’s edge where Peter had first kissed me. I kissed Ari long and hard there. I think he knew the trip was about excising demons—all kinds. His return kiss was ardent and enthusiastic.

Late in the afternoon, we reached the clearing. I paused before stepping onto the battlefield. It looked different during the day. The jagged headstones were still there. And the surrounding vegetation still appeared blighted. The house was, impossibly, still standing. But the light from the sinking sun coated everything with the warm glow of hope.

We spent the last daylight hours collecting all the deadwood. We piled it in a big heap at the front door of the house. Then I opened up my pack and pulled out the rest of our supplies: a large blanket, two huge covered mugs of ale, a couple slices of Innkeeper’s Pie, and a box of matches. The days of staring at my mother’s garden had given me the idea.

My plan was simple: purge this land with fire and bring it back to life, by committing the simple joyous acts of living on it. We would eat; we would drink; and we would be merry. I grinned to myself. I was particularly looking forward to that last part.

“Fire it up, Onyx,” Ari called from the blanket. I struck the first match, nervously swallowing. What if it didn’t work? But I had to believe.

I threw the match.
Lucem in tenebras ferimus.

Into the darkness, we bring light.